It's Quiet Uptown
by nobracketsociety
Summary: Imagine living with the unimaginable. But first, define the unimaginable. It can appear in many forms, and occasionally, it wins. Mpreg, "lovechildren," and character death. Past USUK and FrUK. Franada, SpaPru, and mentions of DenNor.
1. Prologue

With a smile, Ryan climbed into his father's lap.

His father, a young man who was forever young, held the boy close and smiled fondly at him, though his blue eyes were distant. The flood of memories that accompanied Ryan was infinite and always hard to look at, even if the child himself wasn't.

"Don't worry, Daddy. He'll be here soon enough."

"That's what I'm worried about, kiddo."

"Why? He misses you a lot, you can see that."

"Yeah… I miss him too, Ry. I just wish he'd move on, you know? And live. He deserves that."

"I know… I don't think he knows that, though. He's so stubborn when it comes to you and I."

"And we're stubborn when it comes to him." He laughed, though there were tears in his eyes. "I guess we're just gonna have to let fate do its work, hmm?"

"It did with me… If I'd just had more time with him, maybe I could have given him more time…"

"God, Ry, don't you dare blame yourself. You fought so hard."

"Still…" The boy sighed, resting his head on his father's chest. "I just wish we could make him happy again."

"He has a hard time being _happy_ … always has. I'm pretty sure you're the only thing that really brought him happiness."

"Do you… Do you think he'll be happy when he's here with us?"

"I… I think he will. But, much as I miss him, I wish he wouldn't join us."

"He doesn't know that there are still people who love him... He just wants to be with his family, no matter what."

"We aren't his only family. I wish he'd see that. Stubborn ba-"

He cut himself off just in time, with a soft, sheepish laugh. "Stubborn idiot."

"Just because I _look_ ten doesn't mean that I don't know what you almost said," Ryan laughed, grinning up at his father.

"Shhh. Do me a solid and don't tell your dad what I almost called him. Or that you know it."

"I won't. I'm pretty sure he'd be surprised to see me this young, anyway, so I wouldn't dare shatter that fantasy."

"Mm, well, I'm sure he'll figure you retained your seventeen-year-old mentality. You were kinda born a gentleman."

"I suppose you're right… I take after him more in the behavior-department, don't I?"

His father let out a barking laugh. "You swear much less."

"Really? He never swore much around me."

"Around you? No way. Present company excluded, though, and he'd contest every drunken sailor on the planet."

"That seems more believable. He was always _so_ careful around me…"

"He was a great dad to you." He let himself laugh softly again. "I'm sorry I was the trade off."

"What was it like before I was born? What was he like?"

"Ryan… I dunno if you want to hear about that."

"Please, Daddy? I've already heard the basics from him…"

"How much has he told you?"

"Just about how you got here… not much else, though."

"Did you hear about your sister? About Francis? It's a really long story, Ry. And it ain't pleasant."

"We've got nothing but time. Please tell me?"

His father sighed in defeat. "Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you. I guess it all started when Mattie found out that Francis was pregnant…"


	2. Until Then

**Chapter One: Until Then**

"Hurry up!" Alfred urged, waving the pair of visitors into the living room. "We've only got an hour 'till Arthur gets back. Which means, like, forty-five minutes to watch TV before I have to put the remote back where he hides it."

"Okay, okay," Matthew laughed, leading Francis over to the couch. "I don't see why you have to hide your TV-watching in the first place."

"I do not see why television is the first activity that comes to mind when you have visitors," Francis muttered.

"He tells me it rots my brain, or some shit," Alfred snorted, totally ignoring Francis. "He hides the remote in his sock drawer like he thinks I don't know."

"Awwh, he thinks you have a brain, how sweet," Matthew teased.

"You know, shame on the idiot who decided Canadians were polite." Alfred scrolled through a few channels.

"Eh, they were right about Americans and their television," Matthew shrugged, cuddling up to Francis.

"You shut up," Alfred commanded, not even looking away from the screen as he settled on a channel. "Need I remind you that you and your French boyfriend are also watching the TV?"

"I am not watching it," Francis protested, tone teasing as he kept his eyes on Matthew.

"Whatever, Francis."

Matthew grinned up at his French boyfriend before a commercial caught his attention. In it, there was a very cute baby toddling around in nothing but a diaper, seeing as it was a diaper commercial. "Awwh, that baby is so adorable…"

"You are not fooling me into looking at that screen, Matthieu," Francis insisted.

"But Franny," Matthew whined, poking his cheek. "Look at the cute baby."

"Non, I will not become the American!"

"Boo, you're no fun," Matthew huffed. "Alfie, tell him to look at the baby."

"Francis, look at the baby." Alfred's voice was jokingly monotone.

"You're no help," Matthew laughed. He looked back at the television for a bit before speaking up again, his tone thoughtful. "Hey Alfie, have you ever thought about having kids?"

Alfred offered a half shrug. "I dunno… I mean, I'd want to, but they told me I'm not fertile, remember? Besides, Artie doesn't really want kids."

"Well, I guess those are good reasons," Matthew chuckled. "I've never put too much thought into it, myself."

"No?" Alfred raised an eyebrow, finally looking at Matthew. "I feel like you'd want kids."

"I mean, I'm not opposed to having kids," Matthew allowed, shrugging a bit. "I've just never thought about getting my fertility tested or anything."

"Really? Maybe you ought to do that, bro." Alfred smirked. "How often do you guys bang?"

"None of your business," Matthew informed him, sticking his tongue out.

Instead of shoving his way into the conversation at that opportune moment, Francis had gone oddly silent. He still wasn't looking at the television, but his playful smile had noticeably faded.

Surprised that Francis hadn't jumped at the chance to describe their sex life, Matthew turned his attention to the Frenchman. His brows furrowed at his expression. "Penny for your thoughts?"

Francis jumped a little, seeming to have been lost in said thoughts. "Oh… uh…"

"What's up?" Matthew asked, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

"Non, non, it is nothing…" Francis sighed softly. "Nothing is… 'up.'"

"You just missed an opportunity to tell my brother about how much sex we have," Matthew informed him. "That usually means something is up."

"You say that like it happens often," Francis attempted to joke.

"Often enough," Matthew insisted. "So, come on, out with it."

Francis's smile melted completely at that, and he lowered his eyes. "I, ah…"

"Franny, you know you can tell me anything," Matthew reminded him.

"I do not want you to be upset with me," Francis admitted, his eyes watering.

"I won't be," Matthew promised, wrapping his arms around him. "Don't cry…"

"Yeah, what are you so worried about, Fran?" Alfred inquired unnecessarily. "You know we won't-"

"I'm pregnant."

Matthew's jaw dropped. Francis was… pregnant?

Alfred's eyes bugged in shock; he clearly hadn't expected _that._ "Huh?!"

"M-maybe we should talk about this when we're alone?" Matthew suggested, still clearly shocked.

"Say no more," Alfred said quickly, turning off the TV and retreating upstairs with the remote, presumably to hide it again. Francis didn't relax until a door audibly closed.

"Now that we're alone, why on earth would I be mad, eh?" Matthew asked, his expression betraying his concern.

Francis reluctantly raised his head, meeting Matthew's eyes with his own. A single tear traced its way down his cheek. "I was afraid... you wouldn't want it..."

"Oh, Franny," the Canadian murmured, pulling his pregnant lover into his lap. "I've always wanted kids, always. Even discounting my feelings, I know that you love babies. I wouldn't dare not want something that I knew would make you happy..."

"I... I lost a baby once before..." he whispered, letting a few tears fall. "I wanted it... h-he didn't..."

"Oh, Francis... I am so sorry... I will never, not _ever_ , make you do something you don't want to do," Matthew assured, holding Francis tighter.

Whimpering softly, Francis buried his face in Matthew's shoulder. "Thank you..." he breathed.

After a few moments of quiet comfort, Matthew's curiosity got to be too much to contain. "I can't remember the date of... that night... how far along are you now?"

"A-almost two months..." he mumbled, feeling his breath hitch twice more. "I did not find out until a month ago..."

"That's so exciting," Matthew exclaimed softly, showing his excitement quietly so as to not spook his lover. "I bet you'll look absolutely adorable once you start to show."

Despite still being quite shaken up, Francis managed a soft laugh. "But my poor ankles..."

"I'll be sure to rub them," Matthew promised, giving a soft giggle of his own. He placed his hands on Francis' stomach as it finally, really sank in. "We're gonna have a baby!"

Francis smiled, placing his own hand over Matthew's. "We're going to have a baby... Matthieu... I can hardly believe this..."

"Me neither... Oh, wow, we've got to tell Arthur and Gilbert and Antonio and everybody," the Canadian listed excitedly, nuzzling Francis' neck.

"I sort of accidentally told Alfred already, remember?" He exhaled in mild frustration, regretting his little outburst.

"Yeah... well, we can still tell the others... in a bit..." Matthew murmured, placing a few open-mouthed kisses on his boyfriend's neck.

Francis felt himself relaxing further, his previous fear melting away at the mercy of his boyfriend. "Okay... we'll tell them... later..."

Later. They'd worry about everything… later.

* * *

 **(A/n) We want to say this will update quickly, but we saw how that went with the other story, so for now, we make no promises. But we'll do our best to get chapters out in a timely manner.**

 **Also, we do what we want. So simply reviewing to tell us you hate mpreg/Franada/USUK/whatever is useless.**

 **Also also, reviews make us very happy! They really help, so if you have a moment, we'd appreciate your feedback!**

 **Until next time,**

 **Moose and Paris**


	3. Twenty Minutes

**Chapter 2: Twenty Minutes**

Holding his pregnant lover's hand, Matthew rang the bell of Arthur's house. Moments later, the Brit answered the door.

"Oh, Francis, Matthew, come in! I just made a pot of tea," Arthur ushered them inside.

"Merci," Francis said softly, stepping inside. "We won't stay long." He was uncharacteristically polite to Arthur, where normally, he would tease him. His nervousness was reaching new levels. How would Arthur react to this?

The Canadian squeezed Francis' hand reassuringly, sensing his discomfort. "Arthur, we have a bit of exciting news. Franny, do you want to tell him, or should I, eh?"

The Brit watched them, intrigued. What could this news be?

Taking a deep breath, Francis raised his eyes to look directly at Arthur. "I'm pregnant... Matthieu and I are having a baby..."

Arthur's eyes widened. "You're kidding... Matthew, would you mind terribly if I borrowed your boyfriend for a few minutes?"

"Well, no, but-" Matthew was cut off by the Brit yanking their hands apart and pulling Francis into the kitchen.

Francis stumbled into the kitchen after him, looking a bit terrified. "Arthur, please..."

"So you've done it again, have you?" Arthur asked in a low, cold tone. "Just can't keep your bloody legs closed? You can't possibly tell me that you're planning to carry it to term."

"Arthur, we want this baby..." he whispered. "Matthieu and I both do..." He felt like crying. There was a time when he'd loved Arthur Kirkland.

"Awww, that's cute. You think Matthew is going to want you when there's a baby in the picture?" the Brit scoffed. "Even before that, you think he's going to find you attractive when you're the size of a truck? Don't make me laugh. He's just too polite to tell you to get rid of it."

Francis blinked back tears. "That's not true," he whispered. "He loves me... he wants children..."

"He loves you now, but when you're whining about your stupid pregnant cravings, when you're not pretty anymore, when his sleep is disrupted every hour by a screaming child, you think he'll still feel the same? There's a reason I helped you get rid of the last one, Francis."

"H-he wants children..." Francis whispered shakily, a few tears escaping. "He loves me..."

"Don't you cry. Don't you bloody dare cry. You brought this on yourself," Arthur reminded him, hands on hips.

"Why are you so awful to me...?" Francis looked up at him, his hair falling in his face. "Arthur, I loved you..."

"And I you. You're the one who left me, remember? All because you had to go and get knocked up," the Brit spat. "Come see me in a few months, tell me that I'm wrong."

"Non... I don't think I ever want to see you again." He tried to turn away from Arthur.

Arthur grabbed Francis' wrist, pulling him back. "You wouldn't dare keep Matthew away from me, and he won't come without you. And you certainly don't want to draw his suspicion, do you? He doesn't even know about us, does he?"

"God dammit, Arthur," Francis sobbed. "Why can't you just leave us alone? We just wanted to share happy news..."

"I don't see what's so happy about it," Arthur snapped. "Go clean yourself up, you look a mess."

"Just because you're heartless doesn't mean we can't be happy!" Francis burst out.

"Heartless? You think I'm heartless? I'm trying to help you, you git!" the Brit hissed, clutching Francis' wrist tighter. "Believe it or not, I have your best intentions in mind. Just get rid of it and your relationship will be fine!"

"There is nothing wrong with our relationship," he shot back. His vision was tinted red. "Matthieu and I want this baby. And your stupid threats are not going to change our minds."

"Fine. Keep it. Swell up like a blimp and then have a filthy screaming baby. But when Matthew leaves you, don't think I'll be there for you to whine to. Go, clean your face, try and make yourself pretty for your boyfriend. We'll talk again later, don't think that we won't."

With that, Arthur turned tail on the Frenchman, lifting his nose into the sky with a "humph!"

It took Francis several long minutes to clean the last trace of tears from his face, and when he finally rejoined Matthew, he had regained his composure. "Sorry to keep you waiting, cher."

"No worries," Matthew assured, wrapping an arm around Francis' shoulders.

"So terribly sorry, loves, but I've been informed of some pressing work that I need to do," Arthur lied smoothly.

"It's alright," Matthew smiled, taking the hint and leading his boyfriend to the door.

The Brit let them out the door with a friendly-sounding, "Take care, and Francis, remember what I told you!"

Francis bit his lip to keep back a sob. He kept his eyes down, not even managing to say goodbye to Arthur.

Had he been right? Would Matthew stop loving him?

"Is everything okay, Franny?" Matthew asked softly as they got into their car.

"Oui, everything is fine," he assured him, smiling to make it believable. "Where are we going next?"

Still not quite content with Francis' response, Matthew made a mental note to watch him. "Antonio and Gilbert, I think."

He nodded. "You know where they live?"

"Yeah. We should be there in about twenty minutes."

Twenty minutes. Twenty minutes could be life changing.

* * *

 **(A/n) OKAY OKAY OKAY WE SUCK BUT LET US EXPLAIN.**

 **-We were really really busy with the end of school, plus we were in a musical, so neither of us really had any spare time that wasn't taken up by those things or sleeping.**

 **-Paris has been in Florida for TOO LONG and their internet is ASS GARBAGE down there.**

 **-Moose is an anxiety-filled moose, so they can't actually do anything on their own.**

 **-Our final excuse is that we're dating, so whenever we're together, we tend to watch movies and just spend time with one another. We** _ **talk**_ **about editing our writing, but we don't actually** _ **do**_ **the editing.**

 **Knock on wood, we will probably upload more chapters soonish. Though, by this point, you should know we suck.**

 **(Reviews are lovely if you have a moment, wink wink nudge nudge.)**

 **Bye for now,**

 **Moose and Paris**


	4. Sugar and Spice

**Chapter 3: Sugar and Spice**

"Hey, Toni!" Gilbert called from where he stood by the window. "Was Francis supposed to come over? Did you forget to tell me again?"

"Si, I forgot, he and his boyfriend said that they'd be dropping by today," Antonio replied, walking into the living room with a plate full of churros.

Gilbert snorted, snatching one of the treats. "Woulda been nice to know before they were pulling in the driveway." He gestured to the window with his churro.

"Lo siento, Gilbert. I didn't know they would be here so soon," the Spaniard apologized, setting the plate down and opening the door.

Though still slightly shaken from the last visit, Francis managed a smile when he saw his friend. "Ah... bonjour. May we come in? We have some news."

"Si, of course! Come in, I made churros!" Antonio grinned, ushering them inside with a warm hug for both of them.

"Thank you, Antonio," Matthew smiled, still watching his boyfriend with the tiniest hint of concern.

Gilbert grinned. "Come on, sit down." He practically shoved them both onto the couch. "So? What's the news?"

Francis glanced at Matthew, hoping his boyfriend would deliver the news for him. He didn't think he'd be able to do so without his voice shaking.

Luckily, the Canadian understood the unspoken plea, and offered his boyfriend a reassuring smile before turning to the others. "Francis is pregnant. We're going to have a baby."

"Really? Oh, wow, that's fantastico!" Antonio squealed, grinning widely.

"Seriously, man?" Gilbert clapped him on the shoulder. "That's awesome! How far along?"

"About two months," Francis finally spoke up, touching his stomach with a shaky hand as he began to relax.

Antonio gave Francis a big hug. "Congratulations, amigo! I'm so happy for you!"

The Canadian laced his fingers neatly through his boyfriend's, hoping that whatever was causing him to be nervous would fade with this excited reaction.

"Merci, mes amis," Francis managed with his face in Antonio's shoulder (against his will). "I am sorry for not telling you sooner."

"Don't worry about it," the Spaniard assured, letting Francis go. He offered him the plate. "Celebration churro?"

Francis laughed, taking a churro. Antonio and Gilbert were surprisingly good at helping him forget his troubles. "Merci."

"I've been thinking, Antonio, Gilbert," Matthew spoke up. "I know that none of us are particularly religious, but I really want our baby to have a godfather... or two. Would you two be interested in that, eh?"

"I would be honored to be a godfather to your bebé!" Antonio gushed.

Gilbert sputtered. "Huh? You serious? Of course I would! The little guy needs an awesome godfather, after all!"

"Or girl," Francis reminded him.

"Yeah, whatever."

* * *

After a lengthy visit with Antonio and Gilbert, Francis and Matthew were finally pulling into the driveway of their shared home. Without the pleasantly distracting voices of his best friends, Arthur's words echoed freely in the Frenchman's mind once again.

"Hey Franny?" Matthew asked softly, turning the car off. "Are you really okay? You've been acting strangely ever since you came back from talking with Arthur. Did he say something, eh? Do I need to go talk to him?"

"I am fine, Matthieu," he assured him. "Nothing happened between me and Arthur. Let's go inside. I am just tired."

"If you say so..."

That evening, Francis spent an exceptionally long time in the bathroom. He had dug out his package of razor blades, and searched long and hard for a sharp one.

He didn't use it on his stubble.

Meanwhile, in the bedroom, Matthew was growing concerned. Francis had been in the bathroom for far longer than usual, even for the fashion-conscious Frenchman. He knocked gently on the door. "Franny? Are you okay in there, eh?"

Francis jumped, nearly dropping the blade. He swallowed to keep the tears out of his voice as he called back, "Oui, I will be out in a moment."

"Okay... I made hot chocolate. It's waiting for you on the bed," the Canadian called quietly, lingering a second in front of the door before turning and heading back to their bed.

Francis didn't emerge until his wrists were bandaged and hidden well with the sleeves of a nightshirt. Smiling at Matthew, he climbed into bed beside him. "Je t'aime..."

"Je t'aime aussi, Francis," Matthew murmured, wrapping his arms around the Frenchman's middle.

Francis sighed contentedly, his smile real this time. Matthew somehow always managed to lift his spirits, no matter how low they were. With a kiss to the Canadian's head, he closed his eyes.

* * *

 **(A/n)**

 **(Long note after short chapter, but please hold your pitchforks and torches.)**

 **Hello again, dear readers.**

 **As we apologize again for the length of time between updates, there are some things we feel we need to say about this story.**

 **This story, unlike most of the stories we have and will put up here, is NOT a work in progress. It, barring all of the editing, is complete. This is important to bear in mind when considering the next thing we want to say.**

 **This is not a happy story. There are parts that made us cry and rage while writing them. However, we feel that it is a well-written example of a slice-of-life tale. What this means to you readers (the ones that will read this note, anyway) is that there will be characters you won't like at all times. We urge you to stick with the story, however, as we try our absolute hardest to wrap up all loose ends by the end.**

 **With those things said, please enjoy as we continue to (slowly) update Quiet Uptown. Although nothing plot-wise will be changed at this point, we utterly ADORE reviews. They let Paris and I know what parts of our writing you enjoy, and what parts make you feel, and what parts you don't like. This aids us in picking new things to write or to decide to put up on this site.**

 **(Between you and me, there is another long fanfiction in the works. It is nearly completely written, and will begin editing as soon as we can. It contains a few not-so-popular pairings that are completely adorable and not mentioned in this story. Feel free to guess the pairings via PMs and reviews, and if you are the first to get one right, we will write you a one-or-two-shot with the plot of your choice. But good luck, because we're weird. XD)**

 **Wow, I am a long-winded Moose. Sorry about that.**

 **See you soon(ish),**

 **Paris and Moose**


	5. New Joy, Old Pain

**Chapter 4: New Joy, Old Pain**

With a soft sigh, Matthew woke. It had been a few weeks since he and Francis had given their friends the news, and that day they were scheduled to meet with Alfred and Arthur at a cafe for a nice lunch. The Canadian, not quite ready to be awake yet, nuzzled into his boyfriend's neck, breathing in the lovely scent of his shampoo.

Beside him, though he pretended the contrary, Francis had been awake for hours. His dread had been building ever since they had made the lunch plans with Alfred a week ago. As he watched the sun slowly rise outside their bedroom window, his heart was pounding so hard he feared it might wake Matthew.

However, the gentle sunlight did it for him. Finally admitting defeat in the battle between his desire for sleep and his wakefulness, Matthew lifted his head and blinked his sleepy violet eyes.

"Good morning, Matthieu," Francis greeted, managing a tired smile. "Sleep well, cher?" The Frenchman certainly hadn't, but it felt casual enough.

"Yup," Matthew answered. He was always slightly childish in the mornings, before his mind had the chance to wake up. "You're comfy to sleep with. Did you sleep well, eh?"

"Oui, I did," he lied, stretching to qualify it. "What time are we meeting Alfred and Arthur?"

"Around noon, I think," the Canadian glanced at the clock, "Which is in about two hours."

"Ah... I am going to get cleaned up," Francis announced, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. His stomach was beginning to grow, and though it wasn't very visible yet, he had a feeling it wouldn't be long.

Better wear a loose shirt to lunch.

"I love you!" Matthew called, sitting up on the bed and stretching. His boyfriend was so beautiful, and the sight of his stomach growing filled him with such joy. Soon he'd have two perfect people to love.

* * *

Alfred and Arthur were already waiting for them. Francis could see them at an outdoor table from the car.

Desperately, he wracked his brain for anything that might warrant his turning around and running home.

"Coming, Franny?" Matthew asked, stepping out of the car. He walked to the other side and opened his boyfriend's door, holding his hand out towards him with a reassuring smile.

Plastering on another smile, he nodded, taking Matthew's hand. No turning back now. " _D_ _ésolé,_ I am coming."

Matthew led his pregnant lover over to the table where Alfred and Arthur were waiting. "Sorry we're a bit late, traffic was not fun."

"It's perfectly understandable," Arthur assured, visibly sizing Francis up and smirking as he noticed the looseness of his shirt hiding the swell of his stomach. "Really, it's so nice to see the both of you."

Alfred grinned at Matthew. "I've missed you, bro!" He glanced at Francis's stomach. "How's little Alfred Junior?"

"We're not calling our baby Alfred Junior," Matthew sighed, rolling his eyes. Really, his brother was so weird sometimes.

"Of course not, love, Alfred is just being stupid. All joking aside, however, how are you, Francis? I see your baby's certainly growing nicely in there," Arthur pointed out in a tone that made it seem like a compliment while actually being a subtle jab.

Francis flinched ever so slightly, though he tried to turn it into a smile. "Ah... oui, they are..." He awkwardly eased into the seat across from Alfred, looking down at the menu in front of him to avoid eye contact with Arthur.

Matthew sat next to Francis, grasping his hand under the table. "What about you two, eh? How have you been?"

"I've been splendid, thank you for asking," Arthur replied politely, still staring at Francis with a small smirk.

"Same!" Alfred interjected excitedly. "Hey Mattie, you don't suppose I could get pregnant, do you?"

"Well, I can't, and we are twins, so I wouldn't think so," the Canadian replied. "But the only way to know for sure would be to actually get pregnant or get tested."

"Oh, but Alfred, darling, you can't possibly want to get pregnant," Arthur protested. "Just look at Francis. He's only a couple months in and it's already taking its toll on him."

Francis turned his head away, trying to block out Arthur's words. It couldn't be true... Matthew still loved him…

"Awh, c'mon, Artie," Alfred protested. "You never know, a little bundle of joy bouncing around might improve your mood sometimes." He nudged his boyfriend playfully.

"I highly doubt that," Arthur huffed. "And it's not necessarily the actual babies that are the problem. It's the pregnancy that I dislike. What could possibly be attractive about your partner if they're constantly moody, craving some outlandish food, and completely losing their figure?"

"Oh, come on, you grumpy ass," Alfred teased, clearly used to harsh humour from his partner. "I'd totally be sexy knocked up."

Francis rose to his feet. "Pardon... I need to use the restroom." He walked quickly to the bathrooms, his wrists feeling as though they were on fire.

Bingo. As Francis had gotten out of his chair, his loose shirt, so good at hiding his small baby bump, had betrayed his secret to Arthur. None of the others would have noticed it, as it was very brief, but the Brit had been looking to confirm his suspicions. That quick flash of bandaged skin on Francis' wrist had given him all he needed.

"Terribly sorry, chaps, but I've got to use the loo as well," Arthur stood and followed Francis into the empty bathroom

Hearing footsteps behind him, Francis looked into the mirror and caught sight of his tailgater. "Leave me alone," he whispered.

Marching up to Francis with a large smirk, Arthur grabbed the Frenchman's wrist, pulling the sleeve away from it. "Really, Francis? You've resorted to this again? What, was I right? Of course I was. You're showing now, there's no way Matthew hasn't noticed, you bloody cow. Are you too big for your pants yet?"

"Please stop," Francis begged, closing his eyes against tears. "That hurts, Arthur. Let go."

Yes, it hurt. His wrists, and his mind and heart. They all throbbed painfully.

"You're so bloody pathetic," the Brit spat, releasing Francis' wrist. "Matthew still has no clue, does he? About any of this. He always was rather dull. He would have to be, not to insist that you get rid of that bloody parasite inside of you. He'll come round, soon, realize that you're not worth it, and leave your ass."

Francis couldn't hold back a sob, and it echoed hauntingly through the empty bathroom, bouncing off the porcelain tiles and sinks. "Why do you want to hurt me? What have I ever done to you besides love you?"

"You left me," Arthur said bluntly, his cold tone echoing along with Francis' sobs. "I did you a bloody favor, and you left me."

"Arthur, I wanted to have your child! I wanted us to raise a baby, get married, grow old together... I loved you..."

"Damn it, Francis, you knew how I felt about children! That's why we were always so careful with protection when you fucked me! I knew that I could get pregnant, but you never told me that you could! So I helped you get rid of it before it could ruin our relationship, and then you just up and left me!"

"I... I didn't know I could..." he whispered. "And we'd been together for so long, I thought... maybe you would be willing to try... I... I didn't want to abort the baby, Arthur. It's my body, and you…"

"I put the baby in there, I should be allowed to get it out," Arthur snapped, crossing his arms condescendingly.

"It's my body!" he shouted. "If you had been the one pregnant, fine, but I wanted the baby, Arthur, and I want this one!"

"Fine!" Arthur yelled. "It's your body? Go ahead. Ruin it! But don't you dare think that anyone would want you after that! Hell, no one wants you now!"

"You're wrong." His voice dropped. "Matthieu loves me. He is not like you."

"If he loves you so much, why would he ruin you?" Arthur spat cruelly. "Why wouldn't he notice that you cut? Why wouldn't you tell him about us? Face it, Francis. The boy is only staying with you because you're pretty, and you won't be for long."

"That's not true," he repeated, gritting his teeth. "We love each other. We're going to be a family."

"Wake up from your delusion, Francis! No one wants you like this! Matthew must be exceptionally stupid, but he'll come around!" Arthur shouted. He paused, taking a deep breath to calm himself before continuing in a smug tone. "You know I'm right, too. If you didn't, you wouldn't be so pathetic as to cut. You wouldn't get that stupid hurt look every time you look at me. Whether you believe it or not, you know I'm right."

"Just leave us alone, Arthur," Francis whispered, letting his hair fall over his eyes again. "It's not your business anymore. I'm not yours to force into abortion anymore."

"Fine. Don't listen to me. But don't come crying back to me when Matthew dumps your pathetic ass," Arthur spat.

"He won't!" Francis snapped. His hands were clenched into fists. "He is not like you!"

"I never left you!" the Brit yelled. "You left me!"

"What was supposed to do?" He let out a sob. "You killed our child..."

A loud slap echoed against the tile. "Pull yourself together! For God's sake, have you no pride left?"

Francis leaned against the sink, breathing rapidly, aggressively fighting more tears. "Please leave," he whispered.

"Fine. Clean yourself up, you look positively ghastly." With that, Arthur made his way out.

* * *

Matthew was growing slightly worried. "What's taking them so long, eh?"

"Who knows, man?" Alfred sighed. "Did I fuck up, bringing up babies?"

"I don't think it was you..." Matthew murmured, recalling the conversation. "Arthur said some things that could be really hurtful to Francis depending on his mood."

"Oh, that grumpy ass," Alfred sighed, not fully understanding. "He can be a bit of a jerk, huh?"

"Yeah... if they're not back in five minutes, I'm going to check on them."

"Good idea. I won't eat your food while you're gone." He smirked.

"Yeah, I totally believe that," Matthew said sarcastically, glancing anxiously at the door.

"Don't worry, bro, they'll be out soon," Alfred assured him, leaning back in his chair. "They ought to be done soon, they're just taking a piss."

"A really long piss," Matthew muttered, making patterns in the condensation on his cup.

"I dunno, man. Maybe they're talking. Old people do that."

"Why can't they talk out here?" Matthew mumbled, growing increasingly worried.

"Because they're old," Alfred reiterated, though his teasing smirk faded after a moment. "Mattie... about babies..."

"What about babies, eh?" Matthew asked, his attention snapping back to his brother.

"Well, uh... I've been trying to find a way to tell Arthur, but..." Alfred bit his lip with a smile, lowering his voice to a whisper. "I'm pregnant too."

"Oh my god, Al, are you serious?" Matthew squealed, grabbing his brother's hands in excitement. "Oh, that's fantastic! How far along are you, eh?"

"Only about a month..." He looked excitedly down at his stomach. "Mattie, I... I'm so excited... I didn't think I could have kids."

"I'm so happy for you! I'm sure that Arthur will be, too!"

"Ah, man, I hope so!" Alfred touched his stomach with his free hand. "When do you think I should tell him?"

"Do it soon. I don't think you can keep the secret for very long," Matthew chuckled. "Look, he's coming back now."

"Oh, hey, pumpkin!" Alfred greeted, scooting his chair over to make room for his boyfriend. "Where've you been? And where's Francis?"

"Francis and I have just been talking," Arthur replied, taking his seat. "He's fixing his hair or something, he should be back momentarily."

"Cool! So, um... I have some news for you, Artie. It's kinda big..." He grinned. "Wanna hear it now, or stay in suspense until tonight?"

"I'm a little bit drained right now, darling," Arthur murmured, leaning his head on Alfred's shoulder. "Tell me tonight?"

Matthew was once again watching the door, waiting for his boyfriend to return.

"Suit yourself." Alfred kissed Arthur's cheek, wrapping his arm around his shoulders. "You'll wish you hadn't waited."

Finally, Francis emerged, having successfully hidden any trace of his tears. "My apologies." He took his seat again.

Matthew laced his fingers through Francis' once again. "Hey, beautiful. You ready to eat, eh?"

Francis smiled, squeezing Matthew's hand. "Oui, I am ready. Let me see the menu."

Matthew had called him beautiful... how long would he think so?

* * *

 **(A/n)**

 **Hello again, readers. Here's a longer chapter and quicker update to make up for the short one we made you wait months for. Paris is still very sorry. XD**

 **Before we return to our mad editing (courtesy of a motivated Moose), we wanted to leave a serious warning about upcoming parts of this story:**

 **Starting in the next chapter, shit is going to get real, for lack of a better phrase. As Moose warned previously, this is not a happy story, and if you're choosing to stick around, you'll see what I mean. To make a long paragraph short, we advise you to buckle up. (You may not like us very much afterwards.) Once again, however, we promise that the worst of it gets resolved eventually, and you may even feel sympathy for characters you never expected to like again.**

 ***wink, snicker***

 **But until then, thank you for your continued support, and please leave a review if you feel so inclined.**

 **Your friends,**

 **Paris and Moose**


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